❝My subconscious is attacking my physicality, my strength is wavering. It's 4:00 in the fucking morning and my mind is incoherent. Pain is recognizable, it endlessly is when I'm unable to accept the tragedy before my eyes. I've become mindlessly accustomed to fabricating the purest scenario and applying it to my darkest reality; completely coating the darkness with temporary pastel colours.❞
Wednesday, January 16, 2019
5:09 A.M.
YOU ARE READING
Dear Insecurity
Poesía{ONGOING} Excerpts from a book that I will never have the time to write ❝Face down in the dirt She said, this doesn't hurt She said, I've finally had enough.❞ © The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
